Marked
by restlessrose
Summary: The mention of acquiring a black spot would send shivers down the most hardened pirate's spine, and lucky Killian Jones is the newest to be marked for death. Banished back to the old world, he sets out to find a soul of more value than his own, and stumbles upon a dead kingdom, and its sole occupant-a sharp-witted princess, with an even sharper tongue.
1. Pull the Queen From Her Bed

If it hadn't have been humiliating enough to have failed in his attempt at revenge, Killian Jones had once again found himself bound by the Swan woman and her compatriots. Led out into the woods, their magicians set forth a portal, and shoved him through, effectively banning him from their world...for what seemed forever.

If it hadn't been sickening enough to lose, he was going to be sent back to that desolate land...without a ship, without a crew, without anything.

If it hadn't been bad enough, the very demon he'd come to destroy had visited him in the holding cell, no doubt to get in one last gloat.

_"Successful trip, pirate, I must say..." Mr. Gold had hobbled, quite dashingly to his cell door, as though he were nothing more than a dapper gentleman out for an afternoon stroll. _

_Despite how much he wanted to get a good swipe at the beast, his hook had been one of the first things confiscated. Killian's bum arm hung loosely at his side, and he'd shrugged. "Yes, well, I hate to cut and run, but you know how it is...have to leave them wanting more." _

_"Oh, indeed." Gold had said with a somber nod, and grasped one of the bars, a sickeningly sweet smile spreading over his features. Killian could practically see the monster still instead of this man, and his lip curled, loathe to have him so close without a sword in his hand. "And I would be remiss if I did not give you a little going-away present." _

_Without another word, Gold had seized his good hand, yanking him further against the bar. The demon's grip was stronger than he'd given him credit for. No matter how he'd thrashed, Gold had held tight, and muttered some sort of incantation. Finally, he was released, and Gold turned to face him again with a rather pleased expression. _

_"What manner of magic is this?" Killian growled, holding up his hand to examine it. His palm burned dreadfully, right in the center. _

_"Why Captain, you don't know?" Gold almost appeared shocked, earning a poisonous gaze from the pirate. "Soon, that little treasure will garner you a one-way ticket to your fate. The Locker. That's the black spot, Hook...I assume you know what that means..."_

Killian looked down at the cluster of sprawling black boils raised over his palm now with grim curiosity. Out of the many ways he could've died, he had never considering it being at the hands of Davy Jones himself.

And nor would it, if he had anything to do with it.

While the black spot was as certain of a pirate's death sentence as a sword to the neck, it might also be diverted. His soul, as bitter and hardened and putrid as it might be nowadays, was worth about as much as an ant under his boot. A series of sins to atone for, surely, but Davy Jones was a greedy creature. If Killian could bring him a soul that was relatively untarnished-a soul that was weighed not by its misdeeds, but from the good it had brought into the world...

Well, he'd be sitting pretty. Or at least live another few years.

The problem was the land he'd escaped from was desolate-very little remained of the splendor that once was, now that practically every creature to have ever graced its ground was in quaint little Storybrooke, leaving him with very few options to choose from. He'd be damned if the last good months he'd had in his life would have been in that over-excitable hamlet.

Which had led him here, to the Sands, and the last-known place harboring a lost soul.

The land was desolate, by any stretch of the imagination. Anything of green was now withered and brittle, easily cracking against the desert breeze. And there, just ahead, was the grand palace.

Once a sprawling, majestic masterpiece of a fortress coated in glorious jewels and glass, now saw in absolute ruin. It appeared there had been some sort of wind storm, as the glass had been blasted from their position, littering the ground outside. He could almost imagine the string of carriages, well-dressed royals and their footmen strolling up the steps and into the great hall. He could almost hear the music, singing sweetly even over the roar of the party.

Now, now it was silent as the dead. His boots echoed off the stone and dried sand as he strode through the cracked entryway. No doubt all the treasure had been picked clean long ago by vagrants and thieves of a lesser caliber, and he made a small sound of disapproval. As he loved his treasure as much as any man, this palace was more like a tomb. It was almost like disturbing the dead. Suddenly, he felt the cold shock of metal against his neck.

"Don't move."

Killian obediently froze in place-what choice had he, when a blade was pressed against his throat? He held up hand and hook, hopefully barring any attack the feminine voice would wage against him.

Feminine voice.

He glanced out of the corner of his eye, and very carefully turned his head, catching sight of the young woman. Twin braids still draped over her caramel curls, though the diadem seemed long gone. She'd adjusted the lavender gown higher on her legs, binding them over her knees, no doubt to allow herself easier movement around the castle ruins. Her face seemed...harder, than when they'd last encountered, but there was no doubt about who this was. Killian smirked when he saw the recognition flash across her features.

"Hello, sweetheart."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_"You_." Aurora whispered. Out of all the creatures left behind in their world, he was the last she expected to find in her domain.

"Me." Killian allowed, arching a brow at her. "I don't suppose you'd mind lowering-"

"Silence!" She growled, pressing the blade further against his throat. Again he raised appendages. Carefully, she leaned forward to draw his sword from its sheath, pressing that, too, against his throat. She had him, and she wasn't giving him an inch.

Of course she'd take his sword. "By all means, call that a gift." He said dubiously. "A sword to greet me, though? I've never felt so honored."

"I need no sword to handle you, pirate." The former princess spat venomously, but she made no move to lower the blades. "But I find it too satisfying to have taken you off guard." And then her smug smile faltered—he was grinning at her! "What, may I ask, is so amusing?"

"You are, Princess." Killian gave her a winning smile as he leaned over the crossed blades. "You have not yet had the satisfaction of my sword." Without a word, he pressed his lips to her own, and used her distracted state to rip his sword from her grasp.

With a cry of outrage, Aurora shoved away from him and swung her blade, the cry of metal against metal echoing in the destroyed hall. "How dare you?!" She snarled, swinging again. "Implying that I would -ever-..."

"And nor will you, with that attitude!" Killian laughed as he once again blocked her blow, delivering one of his own. He wasn't intent on hurting her-perhaps scaring her a bit. And it had been so long since he'd had a proper fight. "Look at you, grown up with a sword and all! Careful or you'll prick your pretty fingers!"

"I'll prick something alright." Aurora snarled and slashed at him, managing to cut a slit through his doublet. "Oh, dear, look what I've done to your lovely clothes. Pity it wasn't your skin!"

Killian arched an unamused brow down at himself and sighed. "As much as I would love to continue this, love, I've no more time for games." As she swung at him, he crossed her blade, and curved it around and away from his face, using his hook to catch her gauzy sleeve, tugging her forward. He ignored her gasp, her struggle against him. "I've come for you, Princess."

"For me? What value am I to you?" Aurora grunted as she shoved against him. "My heart is not for sale-let me go!"

"Oh, such a temper." Killian rolled his eyes and released her sleeve, instead moving the flat of his blade around her back to pull her flush against him, his hook grasping the sword and holding it, and his prey, in place. "I've not come for your heart, I said I came for you. I'm taking you away from here."

"I'm perfectly content where I am, thank you."

"Are you, then?" Killian arched a skeptical brow at her, and glanced about at the fallen columns, the cracked and destroyed thrones settled at the furthest end of a frayed ornamental runner. Sand settled in piles and hills without care. How many times had they held grand balls here, held court here? "Lovely home you have, but I should think you could do better. Consider it, Princess-"

"My name is Aurora!" She snapped, wriggling and writhing in his arms to dislodge herself.  
"Aurora, then. How much longer do you suppose these walls will hold? They look to be standing on naught but your optimism as it is, and the longer you stay here, the more likely you'll be trapped under them someday. There is also the matter of company..." He couldn't help but feel smug at their close proximity. "I'm an excellent friend to have."

Aurora blew a tawny lock from her face, settling her heated glare on him. "Yes, I noticed when you left me and my companions to rot in a cell..."

"You're never going to let that go, are you? Whatever happened to 'water under the bridge'?"

"I assure you, _Captain_, were we near a bridge, I would gladly shove you off the side."

"Ah, so you were the bleeding heart of your family, hm?" Killian chuckled at her growl. "You are lonely here,_ Princess_. Whether or not you will admit it, I can see it in your eyes."

"Why?" Aurora ceased her struggles for the moment, her frustration and confusion furrowing her brow. This man was a snake in the grass-manipulative to his core, and if she let him lull her into a false sense of security once more, she would surely end up sorry. "What do you need from me so badly?"

Killian tilted his head to the side at her, wondering what she would do if he touched her face. Probably bite him. "Let's just say I owe you a favor." He'd stolen her heart-that was true enough. He did owe her...and would owe her even more if he played his cards right. Unable to help himself, he leaned in a bit closer, the tip of his nose nearly brushing hers. His voice lowered to a near-whisper. "I can take you away from this place...show you worlds full of such wonder, such magic..."

Breath seemed to have escaped her, and Killian could practically feel her heart racing away inside her chest. Those eyes were transfixed, almost mystified. And he had the pleasure of seeing her roughened demeanor falter.

"I've had my fill of magic..." Aurora began, her tone not quite as certain. Only, she didn't want to owe anything to this pirate. She didn't want to put her life, literally or figuratively, in his hands. Not again.

"Oh?" Killian shrugged and pulled back from her, sheathing his sword with a metallic ring. "Well, then I'll be on my way. Leave you to your...humble abode." He turned without another word and strode from the hall.

And cursed himself. Perhaps if he hadn't been so keen on the fight, he might've convinced her more easily. She could already be on her way with him...they could already be halfway toward the shore. Halfway to the demon baying for his blood.

"Wait!"

Killian paused, and the grin swept over his features. He'd almost forgotten how trusting the princess was...how naive she could really be. Time, nor what had transpired hadn't hardened her as much as he'd thought. Sobering, he turned to cast her an almost disinterested look. "Yes?"

She stood at the top of the stone steps, breathless from scurrying over the length of the hall and the rubble covering it to find him before he'd disappeared.

"What sort of worlds did you mean?"


	2. Thieves and Beggars

Despite the roughened and destroyed terrain, the Sands had and always would be a desert land. The heat would always leave one with a wilted feeling, their clothing always weighted from perspiration and exhaustion. Thank the gods that it wouldn't be much longer until he was greeted by the salty spray of his home.

It appeared that the princess, though this had been her home for many years, wasn't immune to it, either, if her faltered step was any indication.

"How much further?"

"A few days' time. You need to acquire some patience, Olivia."

"My name is Aurora."

"That's what I said." Hook could feel the scathing glare against the back of his head, but it was easily shrugged off. She wasn't the first maid he'd angered, and she wouldn't be the last.

And she wondered why he'd settled on calling her 'Princess'.

"Just where did you say it was that we were headed?" She lifted the curls from the back of her neck now, though it provided little relief for her. She'd spent so long wandering about in chilly forests with the others that she'd forgotten how dreadful the summers in the Sands could be.

Hook sighed and glanced back over his shoulder at her. "To find a ship. Where do they generally have ships, love?" He gestured ahead to the open expanse of forests and the moss and ivy-coated rock that separated the kingdoms they still had to cover in a few days' time.

Aurora gave a huff of frustration. "Honestly, is it so difficult for you to simply answer a question without being rude?"

"Oh,_ dear_, was I being rude?" Hook feigned concern as he paused in his step, sharp brows knitting together as his hand moved to his chest. "I am terribly sorry, your majesty. How ever could I manage to regain your good graces? My most humble apologies..." The pirate turned toward the princess, leaning toward her as though to allow her in on a secret. "I made you this deal, princess, to benefit the both of us. Not all those you encounter will speak softly to you."

"And not every woman you encounter will wish for you to speak softly to them." Aurora returned without missing a beat, her tone as soft as his, but frosty as the winter. "All I ask is for a bit of decency. We are two of the last in the land, are we not? Why not be polite?"

"I am always polite..."

The captain trailed off, glancing into the trees as the faint yell reached his ears. No, it couldn't be...could it? How could something like these creatures have survived all that had happened? How could they have been left behind?

"What is it?" Aurora asked, impatient with his antics.

_"Hush._"

"I beg your pardon?"

The pirate rolled his eyes, the tension giving way to his own impatience. "Excuse my rudeness, your majesty-but_ shut your gob_, and listen."

The savage, primal cries in the distance were slowly getting closer, like screaming declarations of war.

And then he saw them—dark as banshees and faces their mothers couldn't even bear. Their hair was matted and stringy about their faces, and great teeth protruded over their upper lips, even as their jaws fell open to give another deafening yell.

"Wh-what are they?!" He heard Aurora gasp to the side of him, felt her already backing away. "What do they want?"

"Trolls—a band of trolls, your majesty. And if you'd like to stay behind and ask them, be my guest."

Hook hardly gave her enough time to decide on her own as he grabbed her hand, taking off down the forest, ignoring the cry she gave. If they could just get past the rock face ahead, they might have a shot. Her stride was hardly as long as his, but he had to keep pushing her, or they'd both suffer for it.

The trolls were surely still barreling behind them, though it appeared they'd gotten ahead. He released Aurora's hand to test a withered vine hanging from the moss-ridden rock, wondering if it would carry both their weight. "Alright, majesty, royalty..." He trailed off, hearing the slightest of squeaks and a distant cry. "First."

There appeared to have been a troll just waiting for them to try and make the wall, as the princess was now over the brute's shoulder, wriggling in her attempt to get away. Hook had to keep from rolling his eyes. This day was never going to end.

Grip still on the vine, he contemplated just letting the beast have her-after all, his own skin was most important, that's what he'd been attempting to save all along. But if he didn't have the princess, there would be no way to barter with Davy Jones when the time came. And his aching palm was a heavy reminder that time was indeed running out.

With a groan, Hook released the vine and took off after the beast.

* * *

Their breath was putrid, and she was certain that their collective speaking could be fashioned as some sort of weapon. The beast's hold on her was crushing, and the more he struggled, the more his grip worsened. This was her punishment for leaving the sanctuary of the broken palace. If only she'd listened to the little voice inside her head...

But what was worse was Aurora knew the little voice was the very reason she was there. It had screamed, pleaded with her to take one last opportunity...one last adventure before the sparks and flames died out inside of her, and the madness took hold.

She used to believe she was a solitary creature, but it was becoming more and more apparent that she'd needed someone. And in had come this vision from the past. A garish, rum-soaked_ scoundrel_ in leather, promising the very thing she needed. Craved. He would allow her to be taken, she knew. He had no more attachment to her than he might have a fly buzzing about his head. Even so, if the cad did come for her...his step would be all the more perilous-it appeared there were traps laid about their territory, weaving this way and that, making escape on her own impossible. She was on her own.

"What's them shiny baubles, there?" One of the beasts snarled, jerking a finger toward her throat. "I wants that one."

"You'll get what you get, pig, and be grateful I share." His comrade spat back, his grip tightening terribly on Aurora, so much so that she gave a small cry. Would they kill her? Would they eat her? A variety of deaths marched through her mind like a grim parade, and she had to swallow the bile in her throat. If only she could reach the dagger at her hip...

"I wants it all!" The first troll made a grab for Aurora, his hands like gigantic boulders, but before he could even fasten his fingers around her shoulders, another cry echoed through the trees.

"_Oi, ugly!_"

Both princess and the trolls looked to the captain, flustered and annoyed at having to chase them through the forest.

His back was to the sun, slipping brightly through the gaps in the dead trees around them. He looked like one of the broken heroes Aurora had read about so many times—and again in the dull and decayed library of her once childhood home. Decked in naught but black, he stood like an avenging angel, a face full of charm…eyes full of death.

"You want a bit of shiny metal, do you?" Hook asked, his grin spreading over his features as he pulled his sword from its sheath, glinting blindingly against the sunlight.

"Come have a taste, then."

The challenge hung in the air for a moment, eliciting a deafening silence, as each troll debated whether or not the man was serious. It wouldn't be hard to kill him, after all, as he was nearly twice the size of the hooked human...but to release the princess to attack him would ensure he'd lose the princess' treasures to one of his brothers.

Still, they had to protect their prize, and dropped the female unceremoniously onto the ground as they trudged over to the male, primal sort of laugh emitting from their throat.

"Hook?" Aurora held a hand against her ribs as she pushed herself back up. What on earth... "Hook, run!"

"Hush, darling, I'm working." Amusement stamped itself along Hook's features...save for his eyes. His eyes were hard. "Won't be a moment." And without another word, he spun, his sword colliding against those of the trolls, their metallic clashing ringing through the dismal woods.

Shock had Aurora frozen in place as she watched the exchange, almost as if it was a deadly sort of dance, and perhaps Hook only knew the steps. The trolls attempted to flank him, push him back and away from their prize, swinging their blades as though they were taking a mallet to him instead.

And then she realized their target. Not five more steps back and Hook would fall back into one of the open pits the trolls had dug for themselves, possibly only caught...probably falling to his death. And as much as she thought he still needed to be brought to justice for his past crimes, she hardly wanted to see the last friendly face she had slip out of her fingers. Spotting yet another one of their traps, Aurora pushed to her feet, ignoring the aching pain of her ribs, and scurried over to the gnarled tree it was fastened to. A net, spread about under the trolls' feet. _Perfect_.

The dagger she had strapped to her waist was hardly battle-ready by any stretch of the imagination, but it was just sharp enough to cut through the rope. Her fingers and dagger worked the coarse rope apart, bit by bit, thread by thread as fast as she could manage, her worried eyes continually gazing up to the miniature battle that raged ahead of her. _Hurry...hurry..._

And then suddenly, the rope snapped apart, and she jumped back to avoid it's snaking end, skirting up the tree. With growls of surprise and anger, the netting below the trolls' feet scooped them into its cocoon as though they weighed no more than a few leaves. Pride and elation had her give a bit of a laugh of pure glee-that had been her handiwork...she'd done it!

"Oh, _no_!" The cry had Aurora's eyes snapping to Hook, wide and confused. The pirate groaned and sighed loudly, looking to the dim princess. "Hasn't anyone ever told you not to barge into the middle of a fight? Very bad form, love."

"Oh, really?" Aurora scoffed and folded her arms. "Well, I suppose I shall let you fall to your death next time, if that would make you so happy." Her words caused Killian to glance behind him for the first time since he'd arrived, and indeed, he was merely a hop away from falling into a crudely dug pit.

After a moment, Killian merely chose to give her a bit of a forced smile, stepping away from the trap, meeting her in what seemed to be safer ground. Princess and Pirate glanced up at their would-be captors, heads tilted to the side in unison. "Well, that was a bit anti-climactic." Hook muttered as he sheathed his sword, ignoring the outraged cries and growls from the trolls, the futile struggle they made with their roped-prison.

Despite his unorthodox approach to the situation, he had saved her from potentially being crushed and killed by the brutes. Her next words hung heavy on her tongue as she shifted. "I...suppose I should thank you. For coming after me." She murmured stiffly, barely glancing over his face.

"Do me a favor next time, will you sweetheart?" Killian tore his eyes from the writhing trolls above them to meet her gaze. "Stay close to me from now on. I wouldn't want to have to go gallivanting through the woods any more than I have to. I'm a pirate, not an athlete. And you're welcome."

_"Come along, then. We've got plenty of land to cover and less time to do it in."_


End file.
